


Getting Sick: Boyfriend to Death

by orphan_account



Series: The Horror of Our Love (Boyfriend to Death x Readers) [5]
Category: Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novels)
Genre: Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Farz Dies in this Canon, I don't like Damien or Rire enough to include them in this series, Light eye horror, Ren Dies in the Canon, just imagine they're off destroying lives and necromancing (respectively)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2020-12-28 16:40:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21139868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: This work is a part of my short one-shots/imagines based off Boyfriend to Death and Boyfriend to Death 2. I didn't include Rire, Farz, Ren or Damien because, honestly... I don't really care for them.-When you take someone captive, you don't usually think about what you'll have to do when they get sick. Sometimes though, things happen, and they just have to deal with it.





	1. Akira Kojima

  * When it comes to taking care of himself, Akira falls behind, but he’ll be damned before he doesn’t take care of you.
  * He’ll act like he’s bitter the entire time, but he’s not. He’d rather help you than sit around.
  * He spends more time with you so you don’t get bored, he’s not scared of getting sick too.
  * He’ll even call out of DJ gigs so he can stay with you at night and make sure you get to bed.

-

Having a cold sucked. Runny nose, endless headaches, and coughing were just a few of the many _joys _that had been bestowed upon ______. “I don’t understand how this happened,” she complained, going through the second box of tissues in the part three hours. “I don’t even go out! How did I get sick?”

“I don’t know babe, I’m not a doctor,” Akira told her, trying to rearrange the room around her. He wanted to make sure that if she needed to get up for any reason, she wasn’t going to trip over anything or step on something she shouldn’t. Not to mention, he thought a cleaner environment might help her cheer up a little. “All I know is that you haven’t eaten today, and it’s almost three o’clock. You have to eat _something._”

“I’m not hungry, and my head hurts, I don’t feel like getting up and making something,” ______ pulled the blankets towards her and wrapped herself tighter. “I just want to lay in bed and sleep, but I can’t seem to lay down for more than ten minutes without Niagara Falls coming out from my nostrils.”

“Have you considered that your head hurts because you haven’t eaten anything since last night?” Akira asked, going up to her with a serious look in his eyes. “Look, I know being sick isn’t fun for you, and it certainly isn’t fun for me either, but do you see me complaining?”

“Yes. Right now.”

“The point I’m trying to make is that it’s going to get harder before it gets better,” Akira looked at her wrapped in blankets and got an idea, a smile coming to his face. “If you’re not going to willingly eat something, I’m going to feed it to you.”

______’s eyes went wide. “Come on, really? I’m just not in the mood for anything, and I don’t even know what I’d make, and-”

“That sounds like a whole lot of complaining!” Akira moved fast, taking the blanket from her. “I’m going to give you two choices. Either I’m going to make you something and you’re going to eat it on your own accord, or I’m going to make you something, wrap you in this blanket as tight as possible and force soup down throat. Which one are you going to take?”

______ sighed, giving in. “What kind of soup do you have in mind?”

Akira smiled, grabbing her with the blanket and picking her up, surprising her. “I was thinking chicken noodle soup, or tomato basil. I think I bought both of those for you at one point. I guess we’ll see which one is easier.”

Akira carried her out into the living room, plopping her onto the couch and heading into the kitchen. The second Sano knew ______ was sick, he kept himself locked up in his room. Akira claimed he was a germaphobe, but _______ found that hard to believe considering what he does for a living (and for fun, for that matter). Either way, he was nowhere to be found, which was probably for the best. ______ laid back, and thought she was finally about to doze off when she heard Akira shout from the room over, “Tomato basil it is!”

_I’m lucky to have him. _she thought, closing her eyes and beginning to doze off comfortably for the first time in quite a few hours. 


	2. Sano Kojima

  * When you get sick, Sano does literally everything he can to make you feel better.
  * Sano taking care of you is the _best _because he always knows exactly what to do. He isn’t a doctor for show, and he treats you better than any other doctor you’ve ever seen.
  * However, on that note, he takes over _everything _to make you feel better. Even if you don’t like the remedy, he’ll make you do it because in the end it’ll help you.
  * He’s persistent and doesn’t give up until you feel completely better.

-

As much as ______ loved Sano, sometimes she wished he would just _give her some space. _Ever since she came down with the stomach flu, Sano had been refusing to leave her side, even taking out a few personal days at work so he could be there for her. She thought that was ridiculous. “You have to have sicker patients than me,” she insisted that morning when Sano brought her soup in bed. It was the only thing she had managed to keep down for the past few days. “Why waste your time on something as trivial as a little stomach flu?”

“Your health is more important to me than their health, and besides, they’re in a hospital. Someone will be there to make sure they’re doing okay, but all you have is me. If I disappear on you, you’re alone and throwing up. Is that what you want, doll?” Sano replied, raising an eyebrow and holding a spoonful of soup up to her mouth.

“No, not really,” she mumbled, leaning over and taking a bite of the soup. Every day it was the same thing: either mashed potatoes or soup. Once she could keep those both down without an issue, Sano would let her eat normally again. Until then, however, this was her main source of sustenance.

“I didn’t think so. Now, after breakfast, I’m going to steam a pot of water. It’ll clear your nose and throat if you do it for about fifteen minutes, alright?”

_______ internally cringed. She hated steaming, it was always far too hot, and she felt trapped under that towel when it was harder to breathe. Sano had been insisting on it for the past few days, decreasing the amount each time. “My nose and throat feel fine, Sano. Don’t you think we can skip the steaming today?”

“They feel fine _because _you’re been steaming. If you had let me use Vicks, your cough would’ve been gone completely. However, you didn’t want to use Vicks, so we’re steaming and that’s final. I’m going to go boil a pot,” he stood up, lowering his hand and rubbing circles on the top of her head. “This is all going to make you feel better faster, okay? After steaming, you’ll get to spend ten minutes in the backyard. Sound good?”

Ever since she got sick, Sano’s been letting her spend a little time outside. It felt great to breathe in fresh air for the first time in a long time, she had no idea how long it’s been since Sano took her. She didn’t even know if anyone was looking for her, but someone must’ve been, Sano was worried about her being outside for too long. He knew she needed it, though, so he made a deal with himself: ten minutes a day. Thirty minutes, max.

_______ smiled at him. “Sounds good. Should I change into something or stay in these?” she asked, referring to the nightgown that Sano had put her in last night.

“Stay in that. You can change after your bath, which you’ll take right after you come back inside. I bought an essential oil that’s going to help soothe you so you can sleep better,” Sano leaned down and kissed her on the top of the head. “Now, I’ll come back up for you in a few minutes. Sit tight.”

“Okay,” she smiled and hugged him, taking him slightly by surprise. “I love you, Sano.”

“I love you too, doll. Now rest.” 


	3. Strade

  * Strade is pretty shit at taking care of others when they’re sick, to be completely honest.
  * Getting sick is a chance stop the torture (while you’re sick) and gives you a little more freedom around the house.
  * You still get shocked to all hell if you get too close to the windows or the front door, though.
  * Strade makes a small attempt to help, but he’s better at dealing with physical wounds rather than viruses.

-

Living with Strade was already rough day-to-day. It was hard to get used to being the object of Strade’s torture, hard to live with screams that came from the basement, hard to watch victim after victim go into the basement alive and come up in a body bag. It was worse when ______ felt weak, horrible and barely able to speak.

______ never knew Strade to be gentle. He was an enigma – it was hard to guess his reactions to things. Sometimes he was fully sadistic, not giving a care in the world as to how she was feeling if it meant pleasure for him. Other times he cared about her, trying to help take care of her, even if there was no benefit for him. He hid behind his smiley façade, and ______ never got a glimpse behind it.

Until she got sick with strep throat.

______ woke up in the middle of the night, sweating and overheating. Her stomach felt like it was twisting, and she knew she had to get up soon unless she wanted to throw up all over the bed. She had the feeling Strade wouldn’t be too happy to wake up seeing or smelling that. Strade was gripping her tightly, too tightly for her to get out on her own. She was going to have to wake him up. “Strade,” she called out, wiggling around and trying to egg him to wake up. “I need to get up. You need to let go.”

After a few minutes thrashing around and calling out, Strade finally started to wake up. “What are you moving around for, liebling?” he mumbled, pulling her closer. The pressure he was putting on holding her wasn’t helping at all, making her feel worse. “It’s the middle of the night.”

“I feel like I’m about to throw up, I need to use the bathroom,” ______ told him, trying to move.

Strade sat up, reaching over and turning on a light. “You’re sick?” he asked, seemingly surprised.

“Are you surprised? I have no idea how well you clean your basement, but there had to be millions of different viruses living down there, it was only a matter of time,” ______ told him, her throat feeling like sandpaper. “Just let me get up, please.”

Strade didn’t try snapping back, just letting go of her. She disappeared into the hallway, knowing that if she spent too much time in the bathroom Strade would follow her in and try to speed things up in his own way. He always was trying to get her back to bed with him as fast as possible. Once she came back into the room, she saw Strade going through drawers. Without even looking up, Strade started talking to her. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Head? Stomach?”

_Oh. Right. _“My stomach, and I feel like I’m overheating. My throat feels horrible too, like my vocal cords pressing together is sandpaper,” ______ started naming off anything she could think of.

“Open your mouth,” Strade said simple, turning around with a flashlight in his hands. _Well, there are worse things he could have in his hands, _______ thought, doing as she was told. Strade took her chin with a strange amount of gentleness, peering down her throat with the flashlight. “Your throat is completely red. You probably have strep, the last girl I brought in mentioned something about just getting over it.”

“Why aren’t you sick?” ______ asked, raising an eyebrow. It seemed unfair that she was the one who got sick when it was Strade who was doing all the dirty work.

“I have a better immune system than you, liebling.” Strade put the flashlight down, and ______ had never seen him frustrated before this moment. He usually was good at putting on a cheery front no matter the situation, never getting upset. She never thought something as simple as this would frustrate him. “It’ll be getting worse before it gets better. Not to mention, you staying inside will make it take longer. Could be weeks before I get the chance to…” he trailed off, an annoyed tone in his voice. “I shouldn’t have brought that stupid girl home. She looked nothing like you anyways.”

_______ paused. She always had suspicions, but it was different to hear it right from him. “What do you mean?”

Strade looked over at her and laughed. “Don’t pretend you haven’t noticed. I know you’re smart enough to put two and two together. It’s more satisfying for me to torture someone who looks like the girl I love, that way I have a lot more fun, and I can imagine doing the same things to you… I have limits when it comes to you. With others, all bets are off.”

______ stared at him in shock. “Why? Why would you want that?”

Strade smiled. “It makes me happy. Now come on, let’s go back to sleep. Maybe tomorrow I’ll being home medicine, hm?” He sat down on the bed, pulling ______ down onto it. “The quicker you get better, the quicker I can get you back to where I want you. In the meantime… I’ll find a few others.”

_It’s my fault. If they didn’t look like me, they’d be safe. It’s on me, _______ thought for a moment. A part of her believed it, a part of her knew that it wasn’t her who was in the wrong. It was Strade, and it always would be.


	4. Cain Zeitgeist

  * Cain is actually _really _good at taking care of those who get sick.
  * He’s an excellent cook, and he cooks for you and brings you meals in bed when you’re not feeling great.
  * Additionally, Cain has great manners and seeks to take care of you in the most _proper _way possible.
  * Since he can’t get sick, he doesn’t mind staying by your side and entertaining you when you’re bored.

-

Cain was lucky to be immune to illness. It meant that when ______ got mono, he could keep being around her and kissing her with no concern about getting sick himself. Seeing how she was feeling, he was glad to be immune: she was constantly fatigued, her throat was so sore she could barely speak, she had a constant fever, she lost her appetite and her muscles were constantly aching. She felt miserable and slept most of her days away. If it weren’t for Cain, she would forget to eat completely.

On the worst days, ______ would sleep for hours at a time, and Cain would let her. However, he would worry about her when he knew she wasn’t eating properly. When it was nearly 5 PM and she hadn’t eaten anything all day, Cain went into the kitchen and put together her favorite meal, hoping that she would at least eat _that. _He pushed the door to her room open carefully, seeing her sleeping on the huge bed.

Cain made his way over, sitting next to her and shaking her gently. “______, wake up. You need to eat something.” She stirred gently, but didn’t pick up her head in the slightest. Cain sighed, shaking her again. “If you don’t wake up, I’m going to have to force-feed you. It’s nearly night and you haven’t eaten all day, which is just unacceptable.”

______ finally began to slowly sit up, yawning. “I’m not hungry,” she glanced at him. “Besides, I’m nauseous, I’m not even sure I could keep it down if I tried.”

Cain raised an eyebrow, taking a bit of the food in a fork. “Did you hear me? I’m not giving you a choice. You’re going to eat,” Cain looked over at the ground, and suddenly rose vines popped up, wrapping around her arms and wrists, preventing her from moving them. If she did, thorns would cut her arms wide open. He put the fork up to her mouth. “Now, open up.”

“I’m already feeling horrible, Cain, I don’t want-”

Before she could say anything further, Cain shoved the fork into her mouth while she spoke. “Now bite down and chew. I’m not going to let you go another day without eating something, you’re already sick, you don’t want your body to go into starvation mode to top it off. This is what’s best for you.”

To her delight, Cain made her favorite, and it was delicious. She always knew Cain was a good cook, but she forgot how good his food was since she had been living off soup for the past week. She swallowed carefully, and Cain fed her another mouthful. Slowly, he took the rose vines away and let her take over feeding herself. Cain stayed in the room, watching her until he knew that she ate everything. “Thank you,” she finally spoke painfully, giving him back the plate. Her sore throat was beginning to flare up again.

“I’ll bring you a glass of water, then you can go back to sleep. You need to wash that down with something, you’ll have a better chance of keeping it down that way,” Cain told her, standing up.

______ had never seen him be this concerned or gentle, it usually wasn’t in his nature. She smiled at him. “You’re the best, really. I don’t remember ever being treated this well when I’m sick.”

“It helps that I’m not scared of you being contagious,” Cain leaned down, kissing her softly. _He’s not usually this gentle, _she thought to herself. “Rest, pet. The sooner you get better, the sooner we can resume our fun.”

_That explains it._


	5. Lawrence Oleander

  * Slight eye horror warning? It’s implied near the end, and slightly described.
  * Probably no surprise that Lawrence _adores _taking care of you when you’re sick. He loves that way that you need him to help you.
  * Although he’s great at taking care of you, he can still act a little… unsettling.
  * He cooks for you when you’re sick instead of the typical fast food.

-

When ______ couldn’t open her eyes once she woke up, she knew right away that something was wrong. Her eyes were unbelievably itchy, and she could _feel _them twitch underneath her eyelids, but she couldn’t open them, and she knew moving too suddenly would freak Lawrence out. So, instead, she tried to remain calm and called out for him. “Law, are you awake?”

Lawrence stirred a little before she felt him sit up. “I’m awake, is something wrong?” he asked, and she figured he hadn’t looked her way yet.

“I can’t open my eyes,” ______, trying to remain calm. She felt her voice crack just a little bit, but she hoped it wasn’t too noticeable. It was beginning to freak her out – was it something that he gave her?

Lawrence looked over at her, noticing something out of the ordinary right away. There was a light but noticeable crust around the waterline of her eyes, and her under-eyes bags were redder than usual. “Hold on,” he told her, and quickly went to the kitchen to grab a damp washcloth. He was back moments later, and he gently started to wipe away the crust around her eyes, making sure they were both clean. “Okay, I think I got it all. You can open your eyes now.”

Following his cue, ______ slowly started to open her eyes, and it felt _wrong. _It felt like she was peeling glue off the surface of her eyeballs, and Lawrence became entranced with her eyes, not being able to look away from them. It was a stark contrast from his usual behavior. “Is there something wrong?” ______ asked after a moment of silence.

“I can see the blood running through your veins,” Lawrence replied nonchalantly, still staring at her. “Your eyes are completely red with blood, ______. You most likely have pink eye, but your eyes…” he trailed off. “I adore them.”

“They feel horrible,” ______ raised a hand to itch her eye, but Lawrence caught it quickly, holding her by the wrists.

“If you itch your eyes, it will only make the pain worse,” Lawrence warned her. “I don’t want you to be in any more pain than you’re already in. If you touch your eyes, I’m going to tie your hands behind your back. Got it?”

Lawrence was very intimidating when he was being serious, and ______ felt sweat run down her back as a chill run through her. “Okay, I won’t touch them, I promise.” Tears began to raise to her eyes, and she didn’t dare make a move to wipe them away.

“You’re tearing up,” Lawrence stated the obvious, grabbing the washcloth again and wiping them away gently. “That’s going to happen a lot, just tell me when it does, and I’ll wipe them away.”

“Aren’t you worried about getting pink eye, too?” ______ pointed out as Lawrence stood up. He offered no response as he left the room, and she could hear him rummaging around in the kitchen. The urge to itch her eyes was strong, but she knew Lawrence didn’t mess around when it came to tying her up. Soon, he came back with latex gloves on. “What are you doing?”

Lawrence sat across from her, a lopsided smile placed on his face and a glossy look in his eyes. _I’m not going to like this. _“Your eye is red with the blood going through your vessels, and it’s gorgeous. I just want to get a little bit of a closer look, but don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.”

______ flinched a little as Lawrence’s hands came towards her already inflamed eyes. “Law, do you really think that’s a good idea? You told me not to touch my eyes, what makes this different?”

Lawrence pulled back for a moment, then stood up again, grabbing a drink from the cupboard. “I disinfected by hands, and I’m wearing gloves. I couldn’t be getting any more careful, and you shouldn’t touch your eyes since you could only spread bacteria. If you’re worried about the pain, drink this.”

______ looked at the drink. She recognized the container; it was the same drink that Lawrence gave her the day he cut open her chest just enough so he could stick his fingers inside. The same drink he gave her when he told her that he loved her. _He’s going to do this anyways. Might as well be numb while he does._

She took the drink carefully, taking a swig of it and lying back on the bed, waiting for it to take effect. After a few minutes, when Lawrence knew she would be completely numb and unmoving, Lawrence straddled her and began to slowly move his fingers towards her eyes, prodding gently.

Lawrence spent over an hour counting blood vessels.


	6. Vincent Metzger

  * Vincent slacks when it comes to taking care of himself, but doesn’t slack at all when it comes to taking care of you!
  * Vincent, unique to the other guys, does _not _keep you locked up in the house, so he took you to the doctor the moment you started getting sick.
  * Vincent doesn’t take too many things seriously, but since he wants you to get better, he makes sure you follow the doctor’s instructions to the letter.
  * Also, canon-typical Vincent dialogue about getting sick. If you remember the scene in the basement, it shouldn’t be surprising.

-

When ______ woke up in the morning short of breath and feeling like she was about to cough up a lung, she didn’t expect Vincent to immediately take her to the doctor. Hours later, they were back home with the news that the doctor told them: she got acute bronchitis. There wasn’t much the doctor could do since antibiotics were usually avoided in this case, so they were sent home with nothing.

______ was getting comfortable on Vincent’s couch, scrolling through movies to watch since she knew she wouldn’t be getting out much in the next few days, when Vincent came in with a mug. “Look who it is,” he said, sitting down next to her and putting an arm around her. “What are we watching?”

“You shouldn’t be in here, I’ll get you sick,” ______ told him, scooting away. It was amazing that he hadn’t gotten sick already, considering it was easy to spread. “The doctor warned us: no skin to skin contact, no kissing, you shouldn’t even be around me.”

“Fuck that,” Vincent shrugged. “Here, I made you something to drink.”

“Vincent, I don’t want you to get sick,” she insisted, but Vincent wouldn’t stop holding out the drink until she took it, taking a large swig. “What’s in here?”

“Just honey, I thought you might want something a little sweeter than just hot water,” he scooted towards her again, leaning over and resting his head on her shoulder. “Come on, I really don’t care about getting sick. I’m not going to leave you alone, you know.”

_______ sighed, putting the mug aside. “I know you don’t want to, but I’m going to feel guilty if you get sick too. _You _have work later tonight, the fact that you’ve been awake with me all day is enough, but you need to take care of yourself.”

“Not until I know you’re taken care of,” Vincent leaned in, kissing her forehead. “Kind of a shame, though, that you just have a cough. I was expecting you to be puking and shit like that.”

_Why is that a shame? _______ asked herself before remembering the incident in the basement. Vincent hadn’t made her do anything like that since, she almost forgot about it until now. She _wanted _to forget about it. “That’s disgusting, Vince.”

______ was not expecting him to look over at her with a hard glare on his face. “Watch it. You want to say that again?”

______ hadn’t seen an expression like that on him for a while, and she swallowed the lump in her throat. _I shouldn’t have let myself get so comfortable with him. I have to remember what he’s like, what happened before… _“No, I’m sorry. Let’s just pick a movie.”

Vincent smiled again, putting an arm around her and pulling her towards him tightly. “That’s more like it.”


End file.
